


We All Wear Masks

by writewithurheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sweet/Vicious AU, Tags to be added, Vigilante
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: Sweet/Vicious AUAfter a traumatizing encounter with her best friend's boyfriend, Sara Lance vows that no woman will go through what she did. She dons a mask and provides retribution for those who have suffered, stopping those she can. It's on one of these adventures that she meets a young hacker extraordinaire, Felicity Smoak, and together they set out on a crusade to put an end to the epidemic of sexual assault on their college campus.





	We All Wear Masks

**Author's Note:**

> So thatmasquedgirl introduced me to this AMAZING show, Sweet/Vicious, featuring two fantastic female protagonists. It's funny, witty, and well developed. I definitely recommend watching it. It's one season of awesomeness that will leave you wanting more. 
> 
> Anyway, I've been stewing on this idea ever since Thatmasquedgirl and I talked about the parallels. So until she has the time to write an AU of her own, this little piece is dedicated to her. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“You don’t understand! This creep is  _ stalking _ me!” Felicity leans into the counter, pointing vehemently at her tablet screen where there sits a slightly grainy picture from two nights ago of the lacrosse player that’s been stationed outside her apartment on and off for the last two weeks. “He’s been in that car outside my apartment every night for two weeks. I had to change my phone number because he wouldn’t stop calling.” 

“I’m sorry, miss,” says the officer behind the plexiglass. “Has he actually made any threats?” 

“Threats?” Felicity repeats, incredulously. She’s been getting less and less sleep since the incident started. She’s running on caffeine and power naps. For some reason, she thought she would bring her evidence to the police and they would be able to help. 

But the image of a kindly father figure giving the lacrosse-loving idiot a talking to seems like a far-fetched dream as she stands behind the counter talking to a man who’s taken one too many trips to the donut shop across the street. She’s had mixed experience with the police in Vegas. Some were dirty, others had her mother’s back with a couple less-than-wonderful boyfriends. It was the reason she wasn’t sure she could come here, to the police. 

She summons her courage and channels her mother’s commanding presence, the one she uses when Felicity dismantled the toaster when she was seven. “He’s a constant presence outside my apartment, he’s followed me to classes, called constantly, and now, he’s leaving gifts.” With the final word, Felicity drops the half-wilted bouquet of roses she found on her doorstep this morning onto the desk. If she could, she would throw them at Too Many Donuts, but alas, there’s a barrier between them. 

“And do you have any proof they’re from the alleged stalker?” 

Felicity blinks at the officer, who appears bored with the interaction and who keeps glancing to his right where she can only assume he left the donut that deposited the colorful sprinkles on the top of his uniform. There are two more officers - that she can see - behind him who keep glancing at her, clearly hearing every word of the exchange. 

This isn’t going to get anywhere, apparently. “All I want to do is file a report.” 

“Well, Miss, unless you have proof of intent-” 

“So, basically,” Felicity cuts in, already collecting her compiled evidence, “if I’m hearing you correctly: I can’t file a report unless I have hard proof that this...neanderthal intends me or my property bodily harm? So I rank no higher than a house getting egged. And the fact that he is  _ harrassing  _ me and causing me emotional distress isn’t evidence enough?” 

If it wasn’t illegal and if there wasn’t plexiglass between them, Felicity would be strangling Officer O’Malley of the donut brigade right about now. Then again, Scott can’t stalk her if she’s in jail, right? 

“Sorry, miss. Look, maybe he’s just a guy trying to get your attention and its just a huge misunderstanding.” 

Anger crushes any words she might have countered with. It shifts them into a rage-filled scream of frustration. “It’s despicable that your only answer to a boy violating my privacy is that I should give him a chance. You should be ashamed of yourself.” 

She storms out, without bothering to make sure everything is securely in her bag. The roses land in the nearest trash bin with extreme prejudice. Her messenger bag sings haphazardly around her body, banging against people, chairs, trash cans, door frames, as hot, angry tears prick the corner of her eyes. 

She stalks back towards campus, typing furiously into her phone as she walks. It had taken her hours to find the flourist Scott had bought those roses from, but he’d paid with a credit card. Now, she uses cell towers to triangulate Scott’s phone. He had class this morning, something he still wasn’t skipping - Thank Google. According to his cell, he had just gotten out of class. 

Felicity spent the rest of the day using the same tracking program to avoid Scott for the rest of the day, which mostly means taking back ways to class and dodging in and around crowds, a feat that would have been easier if she had a modicum of grace. Considering her mother had made sure she could run in six inch heels, the really should have more stability in her combat boots. 

Felicity ends up taking more time in the computer lab in the basement of a locked building than she needs, grateful that she has permissions from her professor. She ignores texts from Cooper, knowing that Scott will look for her at his and Myron’s place. Each text from Cooper features an accompanying comment from Myron about the state of Cooper’s desperation for her and pleas for her to rescue him from Cooper’s pining. 

Felicity checks her lojack so Scott’s phone one last time before shutting off the lights and responding to both Cooper and Myron’s texts, saying she was on her way. If she plays her cards right, she can probably crash in their room, although that would involve continuing this pseudo-dating thing her and Cooper have going on, which is only happening because they were both bored. 

She’s so absorbed in her head and the next line of code for their supervirus that she doesn’t notice the shadow creeping closer and closer. 

…

They walk into the common area arm in arm, laughing and chuckling in their blissful perfection. A golden pinnacle of love that makes the rest of Sara’s sorority sisters swoon. Sara Lance is the only one suppressing a scowl at the King and Queen of Greek Row. It’s not the Queen who irritates her. No. Shado Fei is her best friend, the person who has helped her through the crazy ups and downs of college life. 

No. It’s the rotting corpse of a boyfriend that hangs on her arm that roils Sara’s stomach. 

Slade Wilson.

It hurts -  _ burns _ \- every time she sees him. It rips the festering wound open again. It bleeds and it oozes like something that has a life of its own, that seethes beneath the surface, waiting to explode out of herat the most inopportune times. 

“Sara? We’re gonna grab a bite to eat. Want to join us?” 

Sara Lance jumps at the sudden, although not unexpected question. Her hands clench involuntarily and crumple the corner of her Spanish homework as she smiles banally back at her sorority sister and best friend, Shado. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got some studying to do. Who knew pre-med was such a difficult major?” If her laugh is a little forced, Shado must attribute it to stress. Midterms are coming up after all. 

Shado shakes her head. “You’ve been working too hard.” 

Sara shrugs it off and gestures helplessly at her textbooks. There’s suspicion in Shado’s eyes and a hint of disbelief before she smiles. 

“Well, if you finish early, text us. We can all hang out together, like old times.” 

Her intentions are so pure, Sara can’t help but agree. Shado hugs her and Slade pats her on the back with a grin, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn’t raped her three months ago. It takes all her control not to flinch away from the contact. It still feels as if a thousand spiders are crawling across her skin, as if she could never get them off, never wash away the stain that the contact left. 

As soon as the door closes behind them, Sara jumps up, unable to sit still any longer while her inner demons wreaked havoc on her mind. She needs to hit something, protect someone. She makes her excuses to Amara and Diana, before ducking into her room and grabbing her duffel bag before she carefully opens the window and slips out onto to the roof. She moves silently along the roof, sticking to shadows until she reaches the tree at the far end of the house. 

One fancy gymnastic trick later, she’s scrambling down the tree and back to solid ground. 

She jogs away, about a block before she stops at her hidey hole; a small space between a bush and one of the old brick buildings, hidden by a rock. She slips on a black sweatshirt and zips it up to her chin. She pulls on a balaclava and flips the hood up. 

The shadows shelter her as she moves through the campus. She’s gotten much better in the last week or so with navigating campus. It was easier when she was learning at home, where the streets were less lit and she could go half a block without passing under a working street lamp. It took her a little while to adjust to campus. 

You can also get away with a lot on a college campus. Most people just dismiss her. 

Sara moves lightly on her feet, striding purposefully toward her next target: Adam Donner. Drugged and raped three girls. No charges pressed because he was the star of the Law department or some other shit, which means the school buried the accusations. Sara knows for a fact that at least one of those girls dropped out and that there were probably more. 

“Stay away from me!” 

Sara pauses at the cry, head whipping around to find the source of the breathy shout. She makes sure the mask is firmly in place before she veers back toward the computer sciences building. She sticks close to the wall, as she approaches the voices. 

“You stupid cunt! I treated you well, and this is what I get?” 

Sara’s hands curl into fists. She really hates the c word. 

The boy is towering over small girl, smaller than Sara herself. She’s pressed against a wall, visually shaking. The girl’s hand fumbles around inside her purse for the phone she no doubt has hidden in it, but that won’t save her. As Sara watches, the boy grabs the girl and yanks her forward.

Sara barrels forward drives a kick into the assailant’s abdomen. He flies back and she steps between him and the girl in the split second it takes him to recover. She doesn’t recognize the face, but the kid is fit and fighting. 

Nyssa trained her well though, and Sara definitely has the upper hand until he gets in a lucky hit to her shoulder, the one still sore from a similar incident two nights ago. She gasps in pain, her rhythm falters. His following kick propels her back into the brick wall, her head ringing with the collision.

“Hey Scott!” 

Sara tries to move, to get between the girl and “Scott” again. 

Apparently the girl doesn’t need her help. As soon as Scott faces her, she presses down on a canister in her hand. 

_ Tsssssssss. _

Scott screams, falls to his knees, clutching his eyes. Pepper spray. 

“That’s for stalking me, you pretentious entitled fucker.” 

Sara catches her breath, leaning against the wall, captivated as she girl leans in closer, voice pitched low and threatening. 

“And if I ever find you hanging outside my apartment again, I will ruin you. Your name will be on the no-fly list for the rest of your natural life. It will be splashed on every sex offender site imaginable. I will ruin your credit score. I will ruin your life, you dickwad.” 

Sara grins behind her mask. This girl is fury incarnate, the black lips and purple streaked hair giving her an ethereal appearance. Her wrist is already starting to bruise where Scott grabbed her. A moment ago, she had been shaking, cowering against the wall and yet here she stands,  _ threatening  _ her assaulter. 

“Tell me you understand, Scott.” 

“Bitch! I will end you.” Teary eyed, Scott lunges. 

Sara moves then. The boy can’t see now. His anger is the only thing that keeps him going, but the girl clearly isn’t ready for a physical right as she jumps back. Sara brings a baton solidly down on Scott’s neck and he crumples under the force. 

She straightens and watches the girl, fascinated as the girl starts to panic. 

“Oh, sweet Google, did that just...did that just happen? Oh...oh my...fudge...he just...and I...oh Google...and you!” 

Sara blinks as the girl points at her. Her pepper spray slightly raised in her direction. As when she’s faced with a scared animal, Sara freezes. There’s a slight shake in the girl’s hand. 

“You saved me.” 

She should run, Sara reflects. She hasn’t let anyone see her before. She can’t really afford to have attention drawing attention to her. Scott groans on the ground, breaking the moment. Sara moves then. She might as well deliver her usual threats now. 

One of her throwing knives slides into her hand with a flick of her wrist and she holds it to Scott’s neck as he jolts back to consciousness with a gasp. The girl gasps. 

“Hi, Scott,” Sara says, enjoying the way his eyes widen at her artificially deepened electronic voice. “You don’t know me, but I know you. I know your type. You like harassing girls, right? You think they owe you something. But that’s going to stop right now, got it? If I hear so much as a rumor, that you’ve laid hands on another girl, I’m going to come back and cut off your balls. Got it?” 

He looks like he wants to fight, so Sara presses the blade just hard enough to draw blood. 

“Yeah! Yeah! I got it! I got it!” 

Sara grins and pats his cheek. “Good boy. Don’t make me come back.” 

“Hey! You, there!” The beam of a flashlight appears at the end of the alley. 

“Peace out, Scott, Pepper Spray.” 

The girl smiles, even as she shoves her can of spray back into her bag. 

Sara doesn’t wait for a response as the flashlight moves down the wall towards her. She runs at the building, pushing off the wall to hop up onto the roof of the one story building. She jogs along the top of the covered passageway and pulls herself up  a second story. Tonight is off to a good start.

… 

“Come on, Miss Smoak. If you know who this person is, I need you to tell me. Both you and my star lacrosse player were assaulted. I just want to know who did this.” 

Felicity stares blankly at the Dean of Students and turns to the campus police officer. “Excuse me?” 

“Miss Smoak...Can I call you Felicity?” 

“How about you explain that last statement first?” 

The dean gives her a tight smile, obviously trying hard not to get irritated with her. “We’re trying to catch the person who assaulted you.” 

“Well,  Mr. Blood...Can I call you Sebastian?” She smiles brightly back at him through her snark as she sees annoyance in the Dean’s eyes. She continues on with the same brassy attitude which is probably the only thing she got from her mother. “I was just walking out of the Comp Sci building, minding my own business, and Scott appeared. He grabbed me and a good samaritan stepped in.” She smiles politely. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to press charges.” 

She holds up her bruised arm as proof of her assault. Sebastian Blood’s eyes look impassive as he takes in the injury. She didn’t expect him to take it seriously, but she still has her smile pasted on. 

“Miss Smoak-” 

“Oh, good, we’re back to last names. I have to say that makes this much more comfortable, Mr. Blood.” Even if Blood is just a terrible, gory last name. 

He heaves a sigh. “This is the sixth assault that’s been reported since this semester began. If you saw anything, you need to report it.” 

Felicity shrugs. “There was a person, dressed all in black. They used a device to modulate their voice. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female. They showed up when your star lacrosse player grabbed me.” 

“That’s it?” Blood asks. 

She tilts her head and purses her lips as she contemplates it. “That’s it.” 

“You’re sure?” 

Is he purposefully testing her patience? Felicity throws her hands up in the air. “The alley was dark. Scott probably got a better look at him than I did.” 

“So it was a man?” 

Felicity shrugs. “Ask Scott. The person, whoever it was, wiped the floor with him.”

“Thank you, Miss Smoak. I believe that’s all the questions we have.” Felicity turned from the dean to the security officer who pauses in his note-writing. 

Officer Raymond levels her with an exasperated look. He closes the file and shoves it in the bottom drawer of his desk. “Please wait here just another moment, Felicity, while I walk the Dean out.” 

“Yessir!” Felicity salutes. She smiles at Eddie Raymond as he walks the Dean from his office. Once they’re out of sight, she slips around to the other side of the desk and opens the drawers while she keeps one eye on the door. She sifts through the files and flips open the assault files. Curse Raymond and his preference for paper files instead of electronic ones she can hack. 

Felicity quickly snaps pictures on her phone and hurries around the desk and back to her seat, nearly sliding right off the seat in her haste. She would land on her ass just as Raymond walks through the door, if she didn’t wrap her arm around the back of the chair.  As it is, she ends up awkwardly half-on-half-off the chair with an idiot smile for Officer Raymond. 

He narrows his eyes suspiciously at her. “What are you doing, Smoak?” 

“Me? Nothing. Just like the lovely officers at the local precinct who refused to look into my stalker.” She smiles sweetly. 

Eddie Raymond is in his late twenties. Felicity met him her freshman year when some she-witch who shall not be named accused her of stealing dealing drugs. The drugs had been Cooper’s but she had talked circles around both Raymond and the girl. Since then, they’d been on a first name basis, or Felicity liked to throw his first name around. She was charming like that. 

“Why don’t I believe that, Smoak?” He sighs and pulls the file back out. “So, what did you leave out in your report to the Dean?” 

“Leave out? I would never keep valuable information from the Dean!” She presses a hand to her heart and tries to bleed sincerity. 

Eddie laughs. “Okay. Alright. Well, if you think of anything, let me know. We need to catch this guy.” 

“Of course,” Felicity swears, holding her hand up. “On my honor, Officer Raymond.” 

Eddie waves her off. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, Smoak. And I don’t want to see you in this office again until you graduate.” 

She smiles her first genuine smile as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “Oh, now, Eddie,  you know I can’t promise that.” 

“It’s Officer Raymond,” he shouts at her as she walks from the room. 

Felicity just waves over her shoulder at him. Once she’s around the corner, her hand reaches into her bag and closes around the necklace the attacker left behind. She saunters out of the building, preoccupied with the piece of metal that warms under her touch. 

“Felicity!” 

She jumps at the shout, spinning to face the shout, hands curled into fists in preparation to fight. 

“Whoa!” Myron backs off, hands raised in surrender. “I give!” 

Felicity huffs, half-amused, half-exasperated with his response, but she drops her fists and walks towards him. “Hey, My-” 

“Oh, God, are you okay?” 

Cooper nearly knocks her over in his zeal to hug her. He squeezes her tightly, not wanting to let go. Felicity’s hands spasm at her side. She wants - no, she  _ needs _ him to stop touching her. Maybe Scott let her unscathed but she cannot deal with prolonged contact, not right now. 

“I’m fine, Coop.” Maybe her voice shouldn’t be colder than Boston in deep winter, and maybe her body shouldn’t be tensed like a cable about to break, not in the company of friends, yet Felicity feels a panic attack coming on. She hasn’t had one in years, not since she traded in all her pink bows for eyeliner and purple hair. 

Her panicked eyes alert Myron who starts forward only to fall back a step as Cooper releases her. 

“You’ll stay with us tonight,” Cooper declares while Felicity tries - and fails - not to notice how his hand lingers on her shoulder. “I can’t believe someone attacked you tonight. I really should have met you at the comp sci building. It was stupid-” 

Felicity shrugs her shoulder as they walk away from the University Police building. Cooper’s hand moves with her motion, but it doesn’t loosen it’s grim as he continues to extrapolate on her predicament. Felicity scowls and wraps her hand around his wrist. Like it’s one of the used condoms she found in the alley behind the casino her mother worked in, she picks Cooper’s hand off her shoulder and tosses it back at him. 

Amazingly, he continues talking without a breath to pause. She opens her mouth to set him straight and then realizes it won’t do any good. Cooper has classified himself as the White Knight coming to her rescue. She can speak, but he won’t hear it because in his fantasy she’s the damsel in distress. Only Felicity Smoak is no one’s damsel. 

Myron meets her eyes behind Cooper’s back and shrugs helplessly. 

There’s a disturbing amount out macho talk in Cooper’s dramatic speech. Someone would think he had been the one to rescue her and not the mystery woman in black. Her patience runs out and Felicity swerves to the right, toward her crappy apartment that was cheaper than on-campus housing. She doesn’t turn back, even when Cooper’s voice cuts off suddenly - after she’s already half a block away - and then she hears the slap of his Converse on the sidewalk. 

“FELICITY!” 

Her eyes close as she sends a prayer to Adonai for strength as she stops to allow Cooper to catch up with her. “Coop-” 

“I can stay with you tonight, just to make sure you’re safe if you-” 

“COOP!” She spins in her combat boots to face him. Her annoyance, which she usually keeps tightly wound, unravels with the ferocity of a lion’s roar. “I wasn’t attacked. I’ve already been rescued. All I want right now is to go back to my apartment ALONE and process my way through a pint of mint chip ice cream. Got it?” 

He blinks at her, eyes wide with hurt like a cartoon animal. It cracks the wall around her heart a little, as it always does. It reaches through the crack and pokes the tender center in a plea for sympathy. What could it hurt if she has company tonight? 

No, she scolds herself, applying mortar to the crack in her defenses. To let Cooper in now would be to invite him in for the next week. He would take her permission and run with it. It wouldn’t necessarily be an intrusion. It would be kind of like having a one night stand that wasn’t so great but he won’t leave because he thinks there’s real potential there. It’s annoying more than anything - and awkward - but harmless. 

Cooper visibly pulls himself together: straightens from his dejected slouch and summons a smile be probably thinks makes women swoon. “Okay. Just text me if you need anything. Anything.” 

Felicity nods in agreement to get him to walk away. His shoes scrape on the concrete as he starts a slow trudge back to Myron on the street corner. Her heart gives another throb in the stone prison she built around it and she breaks a little. 

“Coop?” He turns back, face a careful mask of interest to hide puppy dog eyes. “Thanks. For coming to check on me.” 

He nods with a small smile. “Anytime.” 

Not for the first time, Felicity wonders what it would be like to give in and date Cooper. He really does care about her. Despite all his complaints about the government and the establishment, she thinks he would lose that aloof “relationships are too constraining” act for her. 

Felicity shakes her head and walks away from him. Cooper’s sweet moments are not enough. She’s just lonely enough to consider more right now. Looks like she’s going to crack open that bottle of tequila when she gets home in addition to that ice cream. 

Thirty minutes and three shots later, she’s halfway through her pint of ice cream, watching school security footage for her rescuer on one computer screen while scanning through the incident reports on another. Whoever this girl is, she’s good, but Felicity’s better. 

She holds up the necklace she took off her attacker. Light glints off the stainless steel canary pendant as it swings in the air where it dangles from her fingers. Etched into the metal, are a trio of Greek Letters. Maybe it won’t be so hard to find her rescuer after all. 

… 

Chemical formulas dance in the air before Sara’s eyes as she stares at the glossy pages of her textbook. As the formulas move off the page, the rest of the words blur and weave together into black squiggles. If she was a coffee person, this would be the moment she poured herself a giant mug, but to her consternation, she is not. 

Sara leans back into her chair and glances around the empty kitchen. Her sorority sisters were all done for the night, which was only driven home even more by the 5:00am that stares back at her from the oven display. Sara groans as she forces her muscles into motion as they loudly protest after several hours of stillness. 

The sky is starting to lighten, pink bleeding into the clouds on the horizon as she stares out the window over the sink and pours herself a new glass of water. She contemplates how many more hours she can do before her eyelids fuse together and force her into slumber. It’s not as many as she would like as she’s sworn off coffee, but she probably has another hour in her. 

“What are you still doing up?” 

Sara turns sleepily to Shado. “Chem.” 

“Ah.” Shado nods and moves over to the table to take a look at the textbook. “And how is the studying going?” 

Sara snorts. “I’m trying to remind myself why I stopped drinking coffee.” She rolls her eyes at Shado’s knowing smirk. “If we had any coffee in the house, I would have broken hours ago.” 

“I could make you some tea - not too heavy on the caffeine - to help you power through this section.” 

“Thanks,” a yawn breaks her words and catches Sara by surprise, “I think I could use it.” 

Shado starts a kettle on the stove and starts to move through the kitchen with purpose. Sara drops back into her chair as her eyes sullenly follow Shado’s perky movements. How is she so awake? 

“Are you going to join us for yoga?” Shado twists to look over her shoulder as she asks the question.

Sara groans. Between studying another section and yoga, she’s going to hurt one way or another. She pulls herself to her feet. “Give me a couple minutes to change.” She fights another yawn. “And if I fall asleep, kick my ass.” 

Shado’s laughter follows her as she jogs up to her room. Just the short movement wakes her up a bit more, so she keeps the movement as she pulls off her comfy study clothes to switch into suitable yoga attire. She slips on a pair of leggings, but her hands pause on a skin-tight tank top. It’s her go-to exercise shirt, or it had been before… 

Sara shakes her head and grabs a baggy t-shirt that once belonged to Tommy Merlyn instead. She stole it from him when she puked all over her own after one of his legendary parties. She hadn’t given it back. It reminded her that there was always at least one guy who would never hurt her. He was like her brother. He’d set her up on her first date with a girl when she’d come out to him. It was a physical reminder of that support. She’d need it this morning if Slade was joining them for sunrise yoga. 

The house is just waking as Sara sweeps out of her room. Shado’s morning yoga sessions are open to the whole house, but she’s the only one who religiously wakes so early. Like most things of her before life, Sara used to wake with the sun during the week. Now, she prefers beating up pigs after dark to get her exercise. 

Her steps falter when she walks into the kitchen to Shado kissing her boyfriend. It’s a press of lips, nothing she hasn’t seen before. Once, she would have told them to get a room, but now saying that just feels like a violation. She smiles weakly instead and grabs a yoga mat from the pile by the door. 

The air is brisk, the grass wet with dew, as Sara lays out her mat and drops into a lotus pose to start to center herself. A few breaths in, pausing after each inhale to let the oxygen invigorate her, Sara’s feeling a little more alert. 

She needs this. 

The door opens and Sara hears other bodies filter out into the backyard: Shado, Slade, Maryellen, Jo,  and Poppy. She relaxes and opens her eyes when she feels the puff of air that is Shado unfurling her mat. Slade drops to the ground beside her on his own mat and Sara has to  make a conscious effort not to stiffen again at his proximity. 

All through the session, Sara focuses only on the breath. In. Out. In. Out. In. 

She feels Slade’s eyes on her. 

In. Out. In. Out. 

Relaxation never truly returns to her limbs, but Sara works up a sweat and her muscles start to ache, that wonderfully painful echo of exercise well done. It’s not as satisfying as a hard run or a good fight, but it’s enough to get her blood pumping. 

By the time she finishes her cool downs, Sara at least feels like she’s accomplished something. She reaches for her necklace, her good luck charm that has gotten her through some of the toughest times in her life. 

Her hands hit the heated skin of her neck, slick with sweat and devoid of her necklace. Sara’s calm evaporates in an instant as she starts to look around her for where it could have fallen. It’s not something she takes off if she can help it. That necklace has lived around her neck since her mother died. It was the reason she had pledged this house, so she could have a piece of her mother with her always. 

It can’t be gone. 

“Sara? What’s wrong?” 

Eyes wide and panicked, Sara turns to Shado. Her hand clutching at her neck is enough to relay to her best friend the importance of what is missing. Sara’s voice breaks, cracks at the admission: “My necklace. I can’t find it.” 

Her sisters, bless them to the moon and back, start scouring the ground, but Shado is right there with her, rubbing her hands soothingly over Sara’s arms. “It’s okay. We’ll find it. When do you last remember having it?” 

“I had it yesterday in class…” Sara frowns, struggling to remember. Did she fiddle with it while studying? She must have, right? That’s what she always did. It was her habit, one that she never noticed until Poppy pointed it out last semester. “Last night…” 

_ Oh, shit. Last night. _

Sara sucks in a breath. The fight with the douche in the alley. It had gotten rough. It’s possible he was able to rip her necklace off. It was usually tucked into her shirt, but there’s a possibility - no. It’s more than a possibility. 

_ Shit.  _

“You were studying,” Shado prompts. 

Sara forces herself to relax with a laugh too strained to be convincing. “I must have forgotten to put it back on after my shower.” While some of the girls nod and move back, clearly understanding, Shado frowns at moves closer. Sara waves her off and summons a self-deprecating smile. “Seriously, Shado, I’m just so tired I think I spaced out. Gave myself a heart attack along the way.” 

“Want me to come with you, just to make sure it’s there?” 

She’s being a good friend - a  _ great _ friend really. Sara won the lottery when she sat beside Shado on orientation if she’s being perfectly honest. Sure, on the day in question, she just wanted to sit next to the cute girl, but now they were family. 

“Yeah,” Slade agrees, effectively breaking the swell of gratitude. Sara swallows thickly through the vile hate that overwhelms her at Slade’s interruption. It’s a violation. He hurt her physically. He doesn’t get to invade her personal life as well. “We know how much that necklace means to you.” 

Sara pushes down the wave of panic at the thought of  _ Slade in her room _ . Her smile now feels as if it’s fractured, breaking under the strain of so many expectations to just act like everything is fine when it’s so obviously not. “It’s fine, guys. I was just overreacting. I got like no sleep last night and my brain is dead.” 

Shado doesn’t look convinced, but Slade backs off with a grin. “You study too hard, Lance.”

Sara ducks out of there, dropping her yoga mat beside the back door and sweeping her textbooks into her arms so she can disappear upstairs. Sweat makes the over-large shirt cling to her body as her lungs fight for air through the beginnings of a panic attack. Sara shoves her books in the general direction of her bed as soon as she enters her room, not wasting a single moment to see if they land on her pristine covers, still neatly made from yesterday. 

Hands, clumsy in their haste, paw through what little jewelry she has on top of her dresser, which is really just the rings and stud earrings she wears on a daily basis. It’s not here. She can tell at a glance, but her fingers need to touch each piece, as if to ensure that her eyes don’t deceive her. 

When the task is done, she collapses to the floor, as if in the finality, her legs can no longer hold her up. Her breath comes in gasps, tears burn the corner of her eyes and Sara has to fight against the agonized cry that wells in her throat. Without her necklace to ground her, Sara’s hands curl into fists and she focuses on her mother’s face until her head rests on her knees and her breaths even out. 

“Sara?” It’s Shado’s voice on the other side of the door that jolts Sara out of her daze and summons her mask of okayness. 

She glances in the mirror to make sure her eyes aren’t red before opening the door. “Yeah?” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shado asks. She doesn’t push to enter the room, but she does look Sara over with a critical eye. Slade isn’t with her, clearly sent away for his insensitivity. 

Sara wants to scream that she isn’t, to finally FINALLY confess to Shado what she’s been dealing with since last semester, but she can’t do that to her best friend. More than that, Sara can’t put herself through what would happen if Shado doesn’t believe her. Because why would she? Slade is the perfect boyfriend to her. He listens, he’s courteous, he’s a gentleman. It makes Sara want to take his head off with a meat cleaver because not even his girlfriend would ever think that he would rape anyone, let alone Sara who he’s been friends with since they started school.

“Class is just a mess,” she says instead. Her throat clogs with unspoken words. “I’m failing and I’m driving myself batty with studying.”

Shado pulls her into a hug. “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to work out a study schedule. That’s what sisters are for, right?”

The smile feels as phony as Sara is right now. She’s a mess, lying to her best friend and that friend is about to organize the entire house into one studying machine because they always stick together. It makes her feel worse somehow.

“And your necklace?”

Because of course Shado has noticed that she’s still not wearing it. 

“Oh, I guess I left it in the library. It’s not here.” Sara shrugs, as if that will make her lies any better. So why not just add another one right on top: “I’ve been seeing a tutor.” And another lie is added to the pile slowly crushing her chest. 

“Are you su-” 

“If you ask me if I’m okay one more time, I’m going to kick your ass. You know I can.” Sara manages to find her grin again at the chagrin on Shado’s face. 

“Alright, alright. But I am planning an official Beta Study night. We’ll order pizza and quiz you until you dream about biology.” Shado’s tone brooks no room for argument, although there is a teasing mirth in her eyes that tells Sara she is forgiven. 

“You’re the best,” Sara assures her. 

“And if you can’t find your necklace by the end of the day, we’ll comb through the entire library until we find it.” 

Sara throws her arms around Shado, pulling her close enough that she can smell the floral of her shampoo. “You really are the best friend a girl could have.” 

“You know it. Now get to work. We can’t have you failing bio.” 

… 

Felicity is not feeling all the  _ pink _ . Oh, her mother would be overjoyed to find her standing on the sidewalk in front of a sorority house, complete with high pitch squealing and hopping up and down in her too-tall heels, but Felicity is only here because in this house there’s a vigilante who likes to beat up assholes. 

There’s not even that much pink, if she’s being honest with herself. There’s  _ maybe _ a hint of it, but she’s really seeing a good amount of olive green, some gold, and then a splash of pink. But those words are her mother speaking. Felicity looks down at her ripped black jeans, combat boots, and ankh necklace as she shifts her messenger bag on her shoulder, necklace clasped in her hand. 

There’s a coffee cup in her other hand. She stayed up too late last night researching the necklace and then hacking into databases to find out about the girls living at this chapter of [SORORITY NAME]. They were startlingly academic, which Felicity probably should be less skeptical about. There were also no reported instances of sexual misconduct from any of the girls, which made the whole vigilante angle much more interesting. 

Then again, if most sexual assault isn’t reported, maybe it’s not so surprising. 

Her phone buzzes in her back pocket, a physical reminder that she’s on a time constraint. Cooper and Milton want to work on the virus after class and she promised to get there around 4. With a sigh, she trudges forward. All day she’s sat in class wondering what she would find when she got here, what the vigilante would look like without her mask. 

Felicity is praying she doesn’t look like Donna Smoak with all the glitter, skin-tight dresses, and sky-high heels. She loves her mother, but she’s not sure how many peppy blondes she can have in her life. 

She knocks on the door and takes a step back. Her eyes catch on a hot pink statue of a lioness off to her left. Where would someone even get that? 

“Hi. Can I help you?” 

Felicity starts and turns to the door with the warmest smile she can manage, which is still almost 70% snark. “Hi. I’m looking for someone in your house.” 

The Asian woman raises an eyebrow as the ends of her lips tilt up in an almost smile. “I figured. I can grab them for you.” 

“Ah,” Felicity scrambles to come up with an excuse but she can’t find a convincing enough lie so she just hold out the necklace, “I just wanted to return this.” 

The girl blinks as she takes the chain, visibly relaxing. “You have no idea how happy Sara will be to see this.” Before Felicity can fully process what’s happening, the girl has Felicity’s arm in her grasp as she pulls her inside with far more strength than she looks capable of. 

There are several pairs of curious eyes on her as Felicity enters the bright house, feeling distinctly out of place in her solid black ensemble. 

“Sara’s been out of it lately. She didn’t even realize it was missing until this morning,” the girl says, finally stopping in the kitchen of the house, which is about the size of her apartment. She spins to face Felicity. “I’m Shado, by the way. I didn’t get your name.” 

“Felicity.” Maybe this is the Twilight zone or something, Felicity thinks as she takes a water bottle that Shado offers her. 

“It’s so great to meet you. And thanks for helping Sara. I feel like such a dolt for not realizing sooner that she was struggling with bio, let alone that she had a tutor. Are you on a pre-med track too?” 

“Oh, well, no.” Felicity twists the cap on and off the bottle in her hands. “I just like science, but I’m not so good with blood. Or needles. I’m really bad with needles.” 

Shado tilts her head and Felicity’s mouth gets away from her because of course it does. 

“And when I say bad with needles, I mean bad. Like run away screaming bad. I have to remind myself I’m an adult every time someone needs to take my blood. I think it goes back to when I was little and my mom decided she could pierce my ears herself. Let’s just say I have been scarred for life...and you did not need to know that.” 

She needs to get out of this house before she does something stupid. 

“So how did you end up as Sara’s tutor?” 

“Oh, well, it’s not tutor so much as study buddy?” Felicity hates that it sounds like a question. “I’m good at biology and we have chemistry.” Wait. That’s not right either. “Together,” she adds quickly as she realizes her flub, “as in the class. Not like flirting chemistry, but like lecture and lab.” 

Shado stares at her in blatant surprise. She blinks a couple times, but before she can say anything a shout cuts her off:

“Shado!” 

“In here!” Shado is still watching her curiously. 

Felicity takes a quick drink to stop words from spilling out of her mouth as a blonde maybe an inch taller than her comes into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t find my necklace at the library, but there’s no need to send the whole house over there. I talked to Nate and he promised to keep an eye out for it for me…” She trails off as Shado holds out the necklace in question with a cheshire grin. 

The girl’s - Sara’s - eyes dart to Felicity. There’s a flash of something dark there before before her sunny smile is fixed back on her face. A new, sharper edge is there even as Sara clasps her necklace back on. “Thank you.” 

“Felicity, here, was just talking about how much chemistry the two of you have.” 

Felicity feels her cheeks go red. A hole in the floor would be so helpful right now. Anything really to not be stuck in this situation. Except Sara smirks and a little of the edge is gone. In fact, there’s a glint her eyes that spells trouble, trouble that Felicity wouldn’t mind getting into. 

“Let me just walk Felicity out, and I’ll be right back for our study party.” Sara throws an arm around Felicity’s shoulders and once again she’s being dragged through the house, except now Sara’s fingers are digging uncomfortably into her shoulder. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Shado declares, grabbing Felicity’s arm and pulling her into the living room, which is covered in books and notebooks, and is making Felicity even more uncomfortable. She’s passable at science, really, but science with sorority girls? Without a computer in sight? 

She’d die. 

“Girls, this is Felicity. She’s been helping Sara study!” Shado announces with far too much glee in Felicity’s opinion. Maybe this is a nightmare. A pink, sparkle-studded nightmare that she’s yet to wake up from. 

“Alright, now that you’ve fully traumatized her, can I get Felicity back?” Sara’s arm slips around Felicity’s waist this time as she slowly extricates her from the gaggle of giggling girls. “I’m sure she would love to join us, but she’s got somewhere to be, right?” 

Felicity suddenly wants to stay. If it’s making Sara uncomfortable. “I can stay for a bit.” She yelps as Sara pinches her side. 

“Oh, come on, Sara,” one of the girls teases with a soft smile. “It’s been ages since you brought anyone home.” 

Felicity’s eyes dart back to the woman clearly trying to get rid of her and notices the flare of pain in her eyes, and based on her theories on the vigilante, she has a pretty good guess what might have happened. 

“You know, I really should get going. If I show up late, they guys will take over the project and they’re completely hopeless. It was great meeting you all.” She waves and struggles to lose the awkward meeting-the-family vibes. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Sara announces, although that’s fairly obvious given the current circumstances. Instead of releasing her at the front door, Sara walks with her to the sidewalk. Her lips for a smile, but the menace under them is terrifying. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Felicity wrestles with a sigh of relief. Now they’re back on familiar ground, this is a conversation she understands. She leans in towards Sara with her own fake smile. “Looking for you apparently.” 

“You found my necklace.” It’s not a question. They’re both smart enough to know that. “And then Shado did all your work for you.” 

“I’m not going to turn you in, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Felicity quickly clarifies. “I think what you’re doing is amazing. I want in.” 

Sara stops short. “Excuse me?” 

“I want in,” Felicity repeats. She pulls away from Sara so she can look the girl in the eyes as she speaks. “That guy who was following me last night, has been stalking me for the past two weeks and the police wouldn’t do anything. If you hadn’t come along, I would probably be in much worse shape. And I’ve looked into you-” 

“This isn’t an extracurricular sport or something,” Sara interrupts. “I don’t do this looking for some sort of medal or anything.” 

“Of course not,” Felicity agrees, jumping on the point. “But wouldn’t it be great if you could do more than just wander around campus hoping to stumble upon a girl about to be assaulted?” 

“I don’t do that!” Sara’s arms are crossed defensively over her chest. 

“So you what? Work off some sort of list? Some sob stories? A support group?” Felicity has latched on and won’t let go. “What if I could set up something that would allow you to help the victims of sex crimes without having anything that could tie it to you? An untraceable help line.” 

Sara glances back at the house. “I’d still say no. I’m glad you’re okay, but this isn’t some fun club and I don’t need a sidekick.” 

“I’m not a sidekick!” Felicity’s shout falls between them but Sara doesn’t turn to acknowledge it and Felicity is left with the long trudge over to Cooper and Milton’s apartment. 

“I’m not a sidekick,” she mutters as she kicks at a pebble. She wants to help because she could have easily been the one assaulted in that alley. Her can of pepper spray could only do so much. And Sara’s eyes are haunted. She’s fighting for a reason, and for her sanity, she deserves some help. 

Felicity shoots Milton a text, saying she’s not coming over tonight as she heads back to her apartment. Her mind focuses on her goal, creating a system wherein the abused can find solace. She sets her computers to work, creating several sources at once and pushing her entire system to work as close to full capacity as she can without crashing the entire thing. 

A search on Sara is running in the background. Turns out her last name is Lance and the sexual tension at the house was more than justified because just like Felicity, Sara is interested in men and women if her past relationships are anything to go by. 

On one screen, Felicity tracks Sara’s movements. She has to prove to Sara that anyone could track her.  _ Anyone _ might be a stretch as the University Police haven’t found her yet, but the point will still stand. In another window, she’s picking her way into the police network for the city of Boston. She has to be able to look at reports and feed calls into her system without drawing attention to what she’s doing. She needs to be able to loop it into her hotline. 

If she can do everything she wants, she should be able to get an ad for the hotline to pop up to people who are looking for it without looking. Like those Facebook ads that pop up based on your preferences. 

But is she good enough? 

Felicity cracks her fingers. She’s about to find out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I've got vague ideas on where to go from here if people are interested. I hope you enjoyed the read! 
> 
> Comments/kudos/bookmarks are always appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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